The dead-end river

River speech is a concatenation of murmurs and burbles, hisses and humming, snarls, chokes, whispered asides, and violent coughs.  The voice of mountain water is always many voices, blended like the roar of the crowd, and although even before you think about it you know you can never tease those myriad elements apart, you keen your ears, leaning forward, wondering.  Which of all those voices speaks to me? – William DeBuys, The Walk, 2007.

Like many people, I am fascinated by moving water.  A kaleidoscope of changing light, colors, sounds and smells, rivers are also treasure troves for a biologist.  Biological diversity runs highest at the edges where different habitats meet, and this is especially true where land meets water.  Desert rivers, in particular, form a ribbon of life, a linear corridor that brings water to otherwise dry habitats, permitting life which would not exist otherwise.

The Carson River forms one of these critical biological corridors.  It starts from snow melt and springs in the high eastern Sierra, and rushes its way down to the Carson Valley, where its waters irrigate a lush valley for pasture and field.  It then skirts the Eagle Valley and winds it’s way through desert canyons to Lahonton Reservoir, established for more irrigation and recreation.  Seasonal releases from Lahonton provide water for the Stillwater Wildlife Management Area, the final stop for the river.

Even in winter, this corridor is important wildlife habitat.  Recently local and federal agencies have begun buying up former ranches along the river, creating an extensive linear park and greatly increasing its value to wildlife and recreationists, alike.  The parks near Carson City have become some of my favorite places to visit as they are  great for bird watching and wildlife tracking.  A couple of weeks ago, I set up my recorder on the banks of the river to record my favorite winter residents; Black-billed Magpies and Canada geese.  Ice extended from the banks of the river, and rafts of slush brushed quietly against this ice and the river gurgled and bubbled underneath the ice.

In addition to magpies and geese, I also saw tundra swans and a bald eagle (unfortunately, recorded neither).  In the snow I found tracks of mule deer, beaver, bobcat, coyote, cottontail, geese, and snowshoe hare.

I also visited Stillwater, to see where the river ends.  After a couple of weeks of subfreezing weather, the shallow wetlands were all frozen over, except for one spot of open water on Stillwater Lake, which seemed to be where every duck, goose and swan in the neighborhood was hanging out.  Unfortunately, it was too far to get a decent recording.

The refuge was rich in wildlife in spite of the cold and lack of open water.  I saw lots of herons, hawks, a short-eared owl, and a golden eagle.  I look forward to going back during spring or summer, when the singing birds and insects might drown out the sounds of the nearby Fallon Naval Air Station.

The Great Basin is full of these dead-end rivers.  Little rivers that never make it to the sea, but rather die in a cloud of salt in the middle of the desert.  But on their way, they not only provide life-sustaining water for wildlife, but create the magic that sustains our souls.

For more recordings of the Carson River, see my album Across the Great Basin.

Recording notes:  Recorded with Zoom H4n and Audio Technica AT2022 with FEL SK3.5 pre-amp.  Recording subject to high-pass filtering to reduce traffic noise.